


The Mission in Moscow

by sherlylovesbees



Series: Johnlock Ficlets [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Assassins & Hitmen, BAMF John, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Husbands, M/M, Mycroft IS the British Government, POV Third Person, Violence, sherlock is an assassin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:40:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlylovesbees/pseuds/sherlylovesbees
Summary: Sherlock is an assassin on a mission in Moscow. It's been nearly two years since his last job, so his employers decided to give him a partner.





	The Mission in Moscow

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fic idea that popped into my head where Sherlock is a deadly assassin. When the text is bold, the dialogue is in Russian. In this reality, Sherlock is not a consulting detective as the high amount of publicity from that would make him unable to be both an assassin as well as a famous person. Instead, he is a chemist that works at Bart’s with his loving doctor

Sherlock quickly stepped out of the cap, duffle bag hung over his right shoulder. He breathed in the cold air of Moscow and smiled with a grin. It had been a long time since he had taken a job like this. John was gone for training in Dublin for a month, so Sherlock didn’t have to make an excuse for why he would not be in London for a few days.

Ever since his first trip to Serbia, Sherlock hadn’t taken another undercover job. In reality, Sherlock Holmes was an assassin, one of the most talented to ever exist. However, when on a certain mission, he had met John Watson, a military doctor and had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Due to that, Sherlock decided to put his career on hold until he could find a safe and stable life for both.

Now that he and John had been married two years, and he could confirm that he was safe, he could work again. While many would think that keeping something so big from their spouse would cause friction in a relationship, but Sherlock was trained from a young age to lie and get away with it with little to no guilt. His older brother, Mycroft, was thirty when Sherlock was born and had trained both him and his little sister Eurus to be cold blooded killers. However, with Eurus, he trained her a little too well. In 2013, she was discovered as being a double agent and was sent to Sherrinford, a maximum security prison.

Sherlock walked into the hotel and sat at the bar. The hotel was small, but nice, he deduced a three star from the size and the service. Sherlock’s talent of deduction was also an extremely useful skill in him efficiently completing his job. He looked over the people at the bar, a lawyer, banker, sex worker, and billionaire. _That’s interesting_ Sherlock said to himself, _what’s a billionaire doing at a hotel like this. OH! Stupid! Obviously here for the sex worker. Doesn’t want to spend too much money but wants to impress her._ Before Sherlock could go farther into his analysis he was interrupted by a waitress at the bar.

**“Could I offer you a drink?”**

**“Just a water.”** Sherlock replied, quickly exchanging eye contact before going back to the others sitting at the bar. His Russian was a little rusty but good enough not to raise suspicion and he quickly flowed back into the ease of the language.

**“Still or sparkling?”**

**“Sparkling please, with a lemon.”** Without another word, the women nodded and went to retrieve his drink. When she came back she handed him his order and a coaster to set his drink on. **“Thank you so much. I was so thirsty I thought I might die.”**

**“I’m very glad you didn’t. We have happy hour each day at 6:84 pm.”**

**“Thank you, I’ll make sure to leave a generous tip.”** With a slight nod between the two, the female left Sherlock to enjoy his drink in his previous realm of silence. Five minutes later, Sherlock placed a generous tip on the table before placing the coaster in his trench coat pocket. He walked over to the stairwell and made his journey up the six flights of stairs. It may seem extensive, but Sherlock liked to stay fit and get in exercise anyway possible. Also, less people took the stairs, so if he were to enter an altercation he could quickly get rid of the problem with little to no challenge.

That’s one thing he liked about his network. They always made sure to pick establishments with workers that were already part of it. There were countless staff and security that were on the same side as Sherlock, if he were to be in trouble, he wouldn’t have to deal by himself. However, it wasn’t always like this. Sherlock used to do freelance work, but joined the Network due to the _very_ noticeable rise in pay. Being assured of security was also a thing he enjoyed about his new job situation. Sherlock picked up the pace a bit and jogged up the last three flights of stairs, walking out of the stairwell in a brisk fashion while looking for his new room number.

Sherlock quickly found his room and pulled the coaster from his pocket, opening It up to find a room key inside. He took it and swiped it in the slot, smirking as the light on the doorknob turned green and the door unlocked. Sherlock quickly got settled, putting his bag on the bed before shedding his trench coat. The room was small, but more than enough for just Sherlock. There were two beds, a small bathroom with a shower, a tv not too far from the beds as well as a couch, coffee table, and coffee maker in the corner. Sherlock went over to the coffee table where he picked up a note that was placed neatly next to the remote.

**_Greetings, Shezza._ **

**_We hope that things are just as good as you remember. We know you enjoy working alone, but due to you being away for a while, we have decided to give you a partner. We are familiar with your frankly appalling attitude and stubbornness, so we have left the information of your target with your partner, Sholto. He should be accompanying you soon. You know our expectations are high, and if you fail, the consequences to follow are not pretty ones._ **

**_Good Luck, The Network._ **

Sherlock sighed and plopped down on the couch. He honestly wasn’t surprised to know that he was getting a partner to accompany him on his mission. It made sense, and it also explained the amount of space as well as the two twin beds next to each other. With nothing else to do, Sherlock turned on the television to some movie with Robert Downey Jr. playing a detective.

-

It was two hours later when the sound of a door opening emerged from the front of the room. Sherlock quickly grabbed the gun from his waistband before staring vigilantly at the door, only to drop his weapon when he saw the face of his partner.

 _”John?”_ John quickly closed the door and stared back at his husband, both mirroring the same look of shock and confusion.

 _“Sherlock?”_ John asked, standing still, barely in the hotel room. “What the fuck?”

“You’re an assassin?” Sherlock asked, setting his gun on the table before walking over to his husband, who was still in shock. He looked like Sherlock the day John had proposed, completely frozen with a look of confusion painted on his face. “John,” Sherlock said, placing his hands on his friend’s cheeks before being spun around and thrown on the bed, his hands cuffed behind his back. “John _what the hell?_ ”

“What are you doing here?!” John yelled, pushing Sherlock’s face into the pillow so that it was practically suffocating him.

“Oh, for God’s sake John we’re here for the same reason!” Sherlock shouted, trying to move his head from its uncomfortable situation.

“Oh yeah, sure we are. This can’t just be a fucking coincidence, Sherlock.” John huffed, tightening his grip on the man underneath him’s wrist (though it was completely unnecessary due to the handcuffs).

“YES, John it is! What else would it be!” Sherlock shot back, breathing heavily through his nose. “Jesus Christ, if you don’t trust me at least look through my bag.” John paused for a moment, trying to see if the man he had known for so long really deserved to be trustworthy in this moment. After a minute he finally made up his mind, looking over the room to find the bag.

“Fine, but don’t think just because you’re my husband I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through your head.” John let go of Sherlock, flinging him further into the bed before reaching over to the bag. John carefully looked through it, finding a Russian passport under a different name as well as an international driver’s license, and a work badge that matched his. John let a sigh out of his nose, feeling a twinge of guilt as he put Sherlock’s documentation back into the bag.

“I’m sorry babe,” John said, in a much softer tone than before, quickly removing Sherlock’s handcuffs before helping him up from his previous position.

“It’s fine, John, really.” Sherlock replied, rubbing his wrists before scooching a bit closer to John. “I know, it’s a lot to take in. I really never saw you as the break-the-law type, considering the fact you were in the _fucking military._ ”

“Yeah, I know,” John replied, moving his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it timidly. “It was a pal of mine who got me into it. I was a military doctor, and while I did have my share of bad days, there was a part of me that longed for the action others got to experience. Once I was shot and sent home, my friend talked to me about using my military skill to make some money. I honestly didn’t think I would still be doing it, I just thought maybe a few times until I find a _real_ job and settle down, but I acquired a taste for it. After we got married, I took a little time off, but _God_ I missed it. The thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through your veins. It’s like a drug.”

“Yeah tell me about it.” Sherlock said, looking down at his feet.

“So how did you get into it?” John asked, looking over at Sherlock.

“Well my story is a bit different than yours. I was basically made with the sole intention of becoming a killer. Ever since the age of six, I was being trained to be the best assassin England as ever seen. This was my purpose. Well, it was until I met you. It wasn’t supposed to happen, you and me, but I’m so glad it did.” Sherlock said sweetly, taking his husband’s hand in his. “But after we got married, I realized there was more to my life than just killing, but my brother didn’t let me off so easy. He threatened me and told me he’d send me to Sherrinford if I didn’t follow through. So here I am.”

“Jesus, Sherl that’s terrible”

“not really,” Sherlock shrugged, going to move his and John’s bags onto the couch. “I was only going to quit for you. One more reason for me to rest easier now that such a weight has been lifted off my chest.” John chucked, going over to hug Sherlock’s waist.

“So this really is just a coincidence?”

“Of course not.” Sherlock said. “Like I’ve said before, my brother is basically the British Government. He obviously both knew of our secret professions and arranged this so that we wouldn’t have to keep anything any longer.”

“Oh, that makes sense” John said, moving away from Sherlock to lay on the bed.

“Mmmmhmm. Such a nosy fucker. He could’ve just called or sent a note. Leave it to him to be dramatic.” Sherlock followed John, moving over John and straddling his hips. “So do you have the information about or mission or do I need to fuck it out of you?” John laughed, which was quickly transformed into a moan due to the rolling of his lover’s hips.

“Ah, Sherlock,” He moaned grabbing onto his neck to bring him into a deep kiss. Sherlock bit John’s lip, licking his way into his husband’s mouth. It had been so long since they had a proper snog, Sherlock almost forgot what John tasted like. They kept their kissing up for a little longer before Sherlock broke it, rolling over to lay next to John.

“Well that was unprofessional.” John let out a breathy laugh, turning to face Sherlock and press a kiss to his nose.

“Only a little bit.” Sherlock closed his eyes and grinned.

“So, the target.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Our target is a business man named Christopher Clark. He has information of England’s most important agents’ true identities as well as much more information. He will be staying at the hotel across the street from ours and has reservations at a restaurant on main street. The specifics are in the brochure.” John stated, handing it over to Sherlock.

“Thanks” He replied, grabbing the paper and reading it over. He sat up, stretching and handing the paper back to John. “Well it looks like we’re all set. We have about five hours until Clark’s reservation, let’s take a quick nap and then set up our game plan.”  
“Sounds good to me,” John agreed, already dozing. Sherlock laughed and moved his bed so that both were now side-by-side, constructing a makeshift queen. Sherlock snuggled behind John, wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist before letting out a sigh.

“I’ve missed this”

“m-too. Now go ‘sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay, I'm on a bit of a writing-high right now and I was really excited to publish this so I didn't read through it at all. Sorry for the mistakes.


End file.
